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۶ৎ title: academic probation ۶ৎ eventual smut! (mdni!) jungwon x oc! ۶ৎ mlist | wc: 3060

JANUARY 3RD, 2025 | 14:32

The fluorescent lights in the admin office flicker overhead, buzzing like a mosquito with nowhere to die. Jungwon has been in here all afternoon, reorganizing a filing system so outdated it might actually be a crime. Honestly, he wasn't just organizing. He was observing. Every late assignment, every disciplinary notice, every glowing letter of recommendation, it was all right here – in what should be alphabetical order. He had to fight the urge to tear apart the nonexistent system and create an actually functional one. They'd thank him.

He's reaching for the athletic eligibility folders with a roll of his eyes; they are mixed in with the college recommendation letters for a reason he's positive doesn't exist. Edges stained with old coffee, overstuffed with pages that most likely could've been condensed to just one document. Scanners were invented for a reason. His eyes are catching one in particular, folder marked in thick black ink – unlike any of the other names that are so neatly typed, this one is written in marker. The kind of marker teachers use when they're mad or making a point. Brown, Weston.

Of course.

A red stamp bleeds across the top in streaky lettering: ACADEMIC PROBATION. He snorts under his breath, the least bit surprised at the sight. Weston Brown was a lot of things: popular, loud, hot, untouchable... but studious was nowhere near the list. If only charisma were GPA- weighted, she'd be valedictorian. Instead, she's stuck with what her brain is actually capable of. He flips the first page, eyes scanning over the grading sheet; not much.

The printout stapled to the front of the page flutters slightly from the breeze of the oscillating fan sat in the corner. His thumb holds it steady as he reads over the words signed in angry red ink, signatures from both her homeroom teacher and cheer coach.

Academic Probation Notice: Due to failure to meet academic requirements, Weston Brown will no longer be permitted to participate in any school-sponsored athletic activities, pending an improvement in GPA.

He tries, but its impossible to imagine the cheer squad without Weston leading the pack. She was the top of the pyramid, literally and socially. Weston was anomaly-level popular. The kind of girl people talked about even when she wasn't in the room. Teachers excused her, boys begged for her, and girls imitated her without even realizing it. It wasn't just that she was pretty, there were a lot of pretty girls in the world. But Weston, she was like mythology. A real medusa type that could make someone relevant just by looking at them.

She made attention a currency. And if you had her attention, even for a second, you mattered. It was disgusting. Extremely confusing. And undeniably genius. Acknowledgment from her could turn any loser desirable and it said so much about the teenage brain and how easily influenced it was. Someone should study it.

There was something inhumanly efficient in the way Weston Brown navigated life, like she knew exactly who she was and never had a thought doubting it. Confidence like that was something people naturally gravitated to. All big eyes and glossy lips and a laugh that made you desperate to earn it again. She truly was something else.

She walked the halls like it was her name on the deed. Knew the exact angle to tilt her chin that made people lean in, hanging on to her every last word. Knew when to speak, when to stay quiet, and when to flash a smile that could set an entire room ablaze. It was fascinating. Never lost her cool or buckled under all the attention, she never even broke a sweat. She didn't even have to try to be so magnetic, she just was. Like gravity.

And while Jungwon liked to pride himself as being the exception, the only one not trapped in her orbit, the truth was: he watched her too. She was the catalyst of the irrational social hierarchy that confused him, so of course he observed her. And he could never keep himself from wondering: What would happen if someone like her, dated someone like him?

He's seen the fleeting effects of casually knowing Weston Brown, but what about intimately? Would she be cast off as a loser for giving one a chance or would he raise to her same height of popularity? How long would it take before their reputations changed? Would she be taken more seriously for dating someone as straight edged as him? Or would he become a joke? Would the school even be able to handle it?

It was just a theory, a baseless hypothesis that he assumed would never be tested. But now. With her file in hand, the looming threat of being benched surely hanging over her head – it's like a million doors and windows were opening. His greatest experiment yet. A simulation. A chance to study the effects of her influence up close. And the stuttered D's on her progress report meant she needed him just as badly as he needed her.

It was a win-win.

JANUARY 3RD, 2025 | 16:23

The hallway outside the gym smells like old sweat, hairspray and reheated pizza. Jungwon has been standing outside the double doors for the last sixteen minutes, practicing his proposal. Urging his nerves to not get the better of him. It was no big deal. Just asking the most popular girl on campus to fake date in exchange for tutoring. The worst she could do was... point and laugh in his face while the other girls on the squad joined. No big deal.

His confidence dwindles as the seconds ticked by, passed by almost every girl on the squad without a second glance. Decidedly invisible. No way someone like Weston would agree to this dumb plan, he's lost it. Two seconds before he's turning and heading in the other direction, the door to the girls' locker room is being slammed open hard enough to make the metal frame shake. Weston storms out.

Her ponytail sags, cheeks flushed pink and mouth set in a furious line. Manicured fingers balled into fists as her white sneakers stomped against the tile so hard he could see her thighs vibrate. She's muttering under her breath, a string of curses that would make even a sailor blush. She hasn't cried, not yet, but her eyes are glassy, the corner of her lash strips starting to lift. The words from her coach still echo through her ears.

“The end of the semester. If we don't see improvement, you're benched. I'm sorry, Weston.” Yeah, right she's sorry. If she was actually sorry she wouldn't be benching her in the first place. So what if she got a few D's it's not like she needed to know math in order to form the perfect scorpion. Perfect. Everything she did on the field was no less than perfect and they were going to bench her? How would they even survive?

This had to be a joke. Some sick humiliation ritual, because benching the best on the team just didn't make sense. A finger lifts to rub at her eye, smudging the glitter she had carefully applied that morning. She'd care if it wasn't the end of the day. If her life wasn't over. Her life was over, there was no other way to look at it. She was going to be warming the bench with the other rejects. She can already picture the triumphant smirks from her so-called-teammates from the top of pyramid.

Oh, god.

Weston passes Jungwon without so much of a glance, tugging her bag further up on her shoulder. It's sad to say he's used to it, standing directly in her eye-line – but still so easily ignored. As if he was the same as the tree a few feet away. Just there, inconspicuously blending in. With a huff, he's jogging to catch up to her. “Hey, Weston! Wait up,” She startles at the sound of her name, only further proving that she hadn't noticed him standing there – not in the slightest bit.

She hesitates for a moment, debating if she should just keep walking. In no mood for a write-up over something stupid. He's standing in front of her before she has the chance to flee, though. His grip shifts on the folder in his hand and her eyes scan over it. It's hers, the same one from the office with the unmistakable red letters: ACADEMIC PROBATION. It's like it's mocking her.

“Can I help you?” There's bite in her tone that she doesn't bother to mask.

He lifts the folder so she can see it properly, but she doesn't bother to look at it. “I need to talk to you,” He says, voice flat, like he's reciting a line from a script. “About this,” Weston blinks, eyes flickering to the folder before she's pinning him with the coldest stare – hell could freeze over. She plays dumb. “If you're trying to give me another dress code violation, you can shove it up your ass. I'm not in the mood,” She scoffs, shoulder knocking against his as she passes him.

Jungwon reaches for her on instinct, fingers catching her wrist before she can get too far away. The raise of her brows has him dropping her hand just as quickly. “It's not that,” He says, clearing his throat. He's desperately trying to remember what he had rehearsed, but he can hardly think straight under her intimidating gaze. It was a wonder people actually managed to hold conversations with her.

Her expression shifts, not bothering to hide the annoyance she feels – like he's an pop-up ad she can't skip fast enough. She doesn't say anything else, just crosses her arms over her chest and waits. It has him scrambling for his next set of words more than he had been before. “I can help you,” He blurts out without thinking, afraid that she might try to walk away again if he didn't hurry to the point. He was right.

Weston's quiet for a full three seconds before her expression softens, just a bit. “You're the hall monitor, right? What's your name again?” He ignores the slight burn that she doesn't even know his name, and answers. “Jungwon,”

“Right. Jungwon. How do you plan to help me?” Her smile is sickeningly sweet, but he doesn't offer one back. He doesn't look away, either. Instead, he opens the folder – not fully, just enough to pull out the first page. Her progress report. “Your GPA is below eligibility and you're on the verge of academic probation.” Weston rolls her eyes, if she hears those two words again – she'll surely rip her hair out.

She feigns indifference. “And?” Jungwon's brows furrows, eyes searching her features. Does she not care? Maybe she doesn't know what that means. “They're going to bench you,” He needlessly explains. Her gaze sharpens and he has to rush his next sentence before she's storming off again. “I can fix it,” He rushes.

Weston squints. “...Fix what, exactly?”

“Your grades. I'll tutor you. Math, biology, whatever's dragging you down.” Her hands drop to her hips, popping one out with an arched brow. “In exchange for...?” Nothing was free, she knew that fact all too well. Jungwon can tell that she's intrigued, that was half the job, right? Now he just needed to land it. Needed to offer up the plan like it was a good idea for the both of them.

He clears his throat, tucking the folder under his arm and standing up a bit straighter. “In exchange, I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend,” He voice doesn't crack or stutter and he's genuinely proud of himself. That lasts all of one second, the sound of Weston's laughter cracking his confidence. She leans over, hand pressed against her chest as the sharp pretty sound falls from her lips. It's a few seconds before she's calming, catching her breath as she reaches up to wipe the wetness from her eyes. “That's a joke, right?”

Jungwon doesn't flinch, doesn't falter. He was already in this deep, might as well see it to the end. She's looking over him now, properly. Taking in the seriousness in his eyes, the determined pout of his lips. “Wait, are you... serious?” He couldn't be, right? What would everyone think? Benched and then dating a loser on top of that. Great. She can't help the way she dissects his appearances, the way too big glasses, crisp button down tucked into a pair of slacks. What? Was he auditioning for a role in The Butler?

“I'm serious.”

Weston snorts. “Why me?”

This was that part that he wrestled with the most, does he tell her the truth or lie? Because the truth, that he wants to run a long-term experiment to test how perception and proximity affect reputational value, is not something that she'd understand. And on top of that, her being in on it, might skew the results in a way that'd deem the entire experiment useless. She couldn't know the truth. Not now. Not yet. Probably not ever.

He just needed to come up with a reason that she'd understand, that was a lot easier than he had initially thought. His gaze drops, voice softening – feigning uncertainty that would match his next set of words. “Because I'm tired of being a nobody.” He says. And that gets her attention, just like he knew it would. “I don't play any sports. Everyone treats me like I don't exist, until they need an answer sheet or something–“ Each word holds just enough weight to make it sound like the truth and he's letting out an exasperated sigh for effect.

“I'm not trying to be prom king or anything, I just want... to be seen?” He couldn't care less about the opinion of the obnoxious idiots that littered the halls, but they mattered to Weston and right now he needed her to believe they were aligned. She watches him, chewing on the inside of his cheek and she's so obviously falling for it. “I figured,” He says, quieter now. “if people thought I was with someone like you... I'd actually be noticed,”

Her nose wrinkles, lip twitches, she's pleasantly amused, though she'd never admit it. “So you want to use me?” She asks through a laugh of disbelief, the bite gone from her tone. Jungwon's shoulders lift in a shrug, “I'd be fixing your GPA, while you fix my social life. It's mutually parasitic.” Weston lets out a real laugh this time, not mocking or sarcastic, just light and pretty. Pride blooms in Jungwon's chest – that she swiftly snuffs out.

“You think anyone's gonna believe I'm dating a nobody like you?” It's not meant to be a dig or mean, just curious. Factual. And despite the insult, Jungwon can feel the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Not unless you sell it,” That makes her laugh again. Prettier than the last one. Her head shakes slightly, fingers pressing at the bridge of her nose. It's a full minute before she's looking up at him, “You're weird as hell,”

He grins at that with no idea why, “So I've been told,”

“And this is a really stupid idea,” She adds. Yet, she can't deny the competitive fire that curls in her stomach. Jungwon wanted her to make him into someone like her, someone that turned heads, worth the whispers, someone magnetic. Would simply dating her be enough? It would be a lie to say she wasn't curious to find out. How much power did she actually hold in this school? Could he be cool just because she said he was?

Her head tilts slightly. “So you'd do my homework?” His answer comes before she's even able to finish her sentence. “No.” She frowns. “But, I'll teach you how to do it yourself,” She scoffs, sounds like a lot of work for her when the only part of his deal was to act completely and entirely in love with her. Easy.

“That's the deal,” There's a sternness in his tone that she's not used to hearing directed toward her. “No shortcuts. You want to stay on the team, you learn and you do well. All I need from you is an illusion,” Weston rolls her eyes, but she doesn't say no. Instead, she rummages through her gym bag until she's pulling out her phone – extending her arm out to him. “You better not make me look like a loser,” It's an empty threat.

Jungwon's quick to take her phone, fingers flying across the screen to type his number in. “I won't,” His heart pounds in his chest, unable to believe that she actually agreed. “And dress better too, you look like a guidance counselor.” She mutters snatching her phone back with a look of disgust shot in his direction. He's way too excited to even feel offended, all the possible outcomes of this experiment floating through his mind.

He answers mindlessly, “I'll work on it,”

“And you have to bring me coffee every morning. And pay for my lunch. Any boyfriend would,” Nails tap against the screen of her phone rhythmically as she stares. “I'll write up an invoice,” He says. That makes her laugh again, for the third time. She straightens after a moment, arms lifting to tighten her ponytail, tugging her bag further up her shoulder. It's all so casual, as if she didn't just agree to rewrite both of their lives.

She's walking off with a tight smile, “I'll text you,” Called over her shoulder as she moves.

Jungwon watches her go. The swish of her skirt, the swing of her hair. This was going to be his best experiment yet. He couldn't care less about buying her coffee or lunch. Or whether or not the popular kids thought he was a loser. Or even if she thought he was 'cute enough' to date. He was more focused on her than ever. How her behavior shifts under pressure. Whether the pedestal she's on can survive the weight of someone like him. If she'll rise or if he'll bring her down with him.

And he was so close to figuring it out, he could almost taste it.

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